Memories
by AndoCommando
Summary: A veteran, semi-retired Shadowrunner, haunted by images of the past, signs on for one last run....of course, nothing goes as planned.
1. Waking Up

Hey everyone..this is the first story I've written...so...please, _please_ review it. I wanna know what people think.  
  
You can either email me at ixandocommandoxi@aol.com or reach me through AIM on that same name....and fair warning, I tend ta use a li'l foul language...and it gets a little violent, but hey..it's Shadowrun. ^.^ Oh, and...er..I don't own Shadowrun either. I just enjoy it...anyway...enjoy.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Mm...sleep...just a little more..."   
Jack stretched an arm out, reaching for his alarm clock. Upon finding it, he pushed that oh-so-familiar snooze button, and...nothing happened. The high-pitched ringing sounded out again, and then Jack's sleep-deprived mind recognized it for what it was.  
"...the fraggin' phone." Jack said as he let out a sigh, then sat up and reached over for the phone. After clipping the bracelet-like holder onto his wrist, he flipped up the vidscreen and glanced down at it. As usual, it was blackened out. "This is Jack..the hell you want this early?"  
"Jacko, Jacko...what do you mean early? It's four in the fraggin' afternoon, fer ghost's sake!" It was Roscoe, Jack's fixer. Wonderful. On the bright side for Jack, this would mean more work, which he needed to make rent for the month.  
"Yeah..like I said. Early. Whadda ya want, Roscoe? Sun's not even down yet."  
"Ohhh believe me, Jacko, my boy. You want this run. Real easy cred, and I doubt you'll even be in danger of gettin' geeked this time. Not to mention the amount of cred...I haven't seen this much nuyen since yer big one back in '52."  
Why Roscoe always had to bring up that dreaded run was beyond Jack...he'd spent near a month in the hospital after that one, not to mention losing a good friend, and...her. Not a day went by when he didn't regret getting his wife mixed up in all this. He barely noticed Roscoe was repeating his name for almost three minutes now.  
"Shut up, Roscoe...I'm interested. Where's Johnson want to meet?"   
"Matchstick's. I know you've been there at least a few times before. Be there at six."  
With that, there was a click as the conversation was disconnected. Jack flipped down the vidscreen of the phone, removed the bracelet part of it from his wrist, and then set it down on the nightstand, taking a look at the clock while he did. Just after four, which would give him more than enough time to prepare himself. After sitting for a moment or two, he stood up and glanced over at himself in the mirror. He wasn't old just yet...thirty-seven years of age. Hair had been shaved a week ago, and despite the growth since then he didn't feel the need to shave it, nor his face, today, as the dark growth merely managed to give him a slightly more menacing appearance, and appearance meant a lot in his line of work. Appraising eyes didn't seem like anything out of the ordinary until the light caught them. Then they lit up like the emeralds they were often compared to. As usual just after wakin' up, he was only wearing boxers, and so he took a bit of time to examine his physique. Still in shape, and not a bit of machinery in him to help that out. Nor magic, for that matter, he thought to himself. Sure, some of those chromed-up street sams had some nice, expensive 'ware in them, but..Jack didn't need it, and it couldn't make up for a lack of skill..not totally, anyway. Even skillsofts could only go _so_ far. After examining himself, and his scars, for quite a bit, he glanced to the clock again. 4:30.  
"Aw hell. Where'd the time go?" he said to himself before finally stepping into his bathroom for a shower. The water wasn't hot today..bad plumbing came with the bad apartment..but he endured it anyway. Once out of the shower, he took another look at himself in the mirror, then sighed.  
"Well...back to work. Let's go get ready."   
  
  
  
  



	2. A Walk Through the Barrens

The year is 2060. Amazing advances in technology have created a huge grey area between man and machine. Implants, also known as cyberware, allow humankind to greatly surpass the barriers that once limited it. Humans fusing with computers is no longer a thing of the past, thanks to an immense computer network known as The Matrix. Thanks to the people of Texas, corporations now hold more power than most governments.  
On top of all that, magic has once again returned to the world. Dragons exist, as to other creatures of lore and fable. What once were considered to be little more than fairy tales now walk the streets with the rest of mankind. Elves, trolls, orks and dwarves...known collectively as metahumans are part of everyday life. Native Americans, generally more in tune with nature and magic than most, have created their own nations, their independance shown by a vast display of magical energy. Right in the middle of one of those nations, the Salish-Shide, lies the Seattle Metroplex.  
The Seattle Metroplex is a place where almost anything can happen, as long as money's involved. Megacorp buildings tower over everything in the downtown district, CEOs raking in the cash as their corporations continue to advance technology and eat up the smaller corps. However, with all that going on..the _real_ business took place in the shadows..the not-so-legal type of business...the shadowruns. The type of business Jack was good at.  
He stepped out of the front door of his apartment building, and right into a puddle. Scowling down at it, then up at the lightly falling rain, he shook his head and continued on his walk. He had a long walk ahead of him, as he lived in the Puyallup Barrens. Not exactly safe, but most people knew better than to mess with him.  
Boris was a large man. Raised on the streets from the age of seven, he was also an extremely tough man, who was more or less independant. He had a small gang that usually followed him around, though right now they were asleep. One of the few flaws Boris had, however, was that he hadn't yet learned not to mess with Jack...so when he saw a man approaching middle-age, walking around by himself...he did what came naturally.  
Jack stumbled forward as a large hand shoved against his back, and cursed under his breath before turning around, only to find himself staring down the sawed-off barrel of a Remington 990 shotgun.  
"Make one move an' I splatter yer head all over th'street. Wearin' a coat like that, you gotta have some creds..hand 'em over."  
Jack looked away from that gun and down at his clothing. Regular clothes with a Securetech Longcoat over it all. He figured Boris must have recognized the fact that the coat was armored.  
"Back the fuck off, I don't have any cash on me." he said as he turned an emerald glare up towards Boris's eyes. The large man blinked, hand seeming to tremble a bit, then he snarled and shoved the barrel of the gun forward, striking Jack in the mouth with it.  
"In that case I'll just hafta take that coat!"  
Jack blinked as he was struck and stumbled back a bit, then wiped some of the freely-flowing blood from his chin. He recovered quickly, however, and dove to the side just as the trigger on that shotgun was squeezed. A shot rang out loudly into the air, and the slug fired from the shotgun made a whizzing sound as it sailed on its path to impact with the shin of an extremely unlucky pedestrian. The man let out a scream of pain as his lower leg was more or less severed, and dropped to the ground clutching it and screaming. No one would come to help him in this neighborhood, though. Jack, in the meantime, sent a kick from his prone position into the back of Boris's knee. As Boris dropped to that knee, the shotgun fired again, though this time the slug sparked harmlessly off the street and sailed off into the air.  
Boris was now starting to get worried. He grabbed the shotgun's grip with the hand that'd dropped it as he fell, and was turning to point the weapon at Jack when he heard an impact with his face..his vision exploded in a flurry of stars and he felt himself falling back, though only barely did he feel the back of his head connect with the sidewalk. As his vision cleared, he realized Jack had kicked him again in the face, and judging by the pressure on his wrist, was now standing on it. He fired his shotgun futilely until the squeezes of the trigger only resulted in clicks, then growled up at Jack. Just as he tried to struggle and get up to his feet, Jack's foot left his wrist and slammed down onto his throat, hard, and remained there.  
"Well now this is interesting. I didn't even have to draw a weapon yet..must still be on the top of my game." Jack smirked down at Boris, then sent a kick to that shotgun which sent it skidding down the street a ways. "Looks like you need to learn not to mess with people you know nothing about." His hand then slid into his longcoat and he pulled out a Cavalier Deputy revolver. He spun the cylinder once, then thumbed back the hammer with a click and aimed down at Boris's head. "Well...let's hope fate was kind to you."   
Boris closed his eyes and then..winced as he heard a click, then opened an eye and looked up at Jack, who was smirking once more.  
"Well well, look at the lucky man. Get the hell outta here before I get tempted to do that again." Jack said as he slid the gun back under his coat, then got off of Boris's throat and continued on his way, leaving a very stunned, and surprisingly happy Boris lying there on the street.  



	3. The Tube Ride

Seattle wasn't exactly an environmentally friendly place. After the Salish-Shidhe was formed, they had imposed regulations to control the pollution, but it still didn't stop all of it. The smoke trailing from the lit end of Jack's cigarette didn't exactly help things, but at the same time it wasn't harmful by itself either.  
Jack took one last drag off the cigarette and then simply tossed the butt down onto the floor of the bullet train car, heel pressing down against it to extinguish it. As he forced the remaining smoke out of his lungs he thought back to what had just happened. An innocent had been hit by a stray bullet. He began thinking perhaps he should have offered some assistance, but that thought was dispelled as he looked down at his watch. No time for something like that, and besides..people don't walk around that part of town without expecting to catch a bullet at least once in their life.  
Whenver Jack thought of the past, one thing always seemed to pop into his mind. His wife. One moment he was riding the tube, thinking about some poor sod that accidently got shot, and the next he was standing on the rooftop of the corp building he'd led a raid into in '52. His wife was dangling from his hand off the edge of that roof, and..he was trying as hard as he could to hold onto her..a task that was only made harder due to the gunshot wound he'd taken.  
"Jack, get yer hoop in gear! We don't have any more fraggin' time!"   
That was Frank, the only remaining member of his team. The rest had fallen victim to the ambush that had been set for them. Frank had taken a few bullets, but..being an ork, he was quite a bit tougher than most of the others, and he was still fine...well...more or less.  
Unfortunately for Frank, that was all soon to change..the door to the stairwell leading to the roof burst open, and...Jack sat up with a start, realizing he was still on the tube. He looked around the passenger car and blinked a few times, then grabbed onto his right hand with his left, trying to stop it from shaking. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed one of the other passengers, an average-looking human woman, was staring at him, but he didn't think much of it, figuring his sudden movement must have captured her attention. He gave her a more appraising glance...curly brown hair, somewhat pale skin, green eyes. Not too bad looking, but..not even on the level that his wife was. His attention snapped back to where he was  
as the tube lurched to a halt. It was his stop. 


End file.
